Harry Potter: Wand Crafter
by aanimo
Summary: In the summer before his 6th year, the Ministry decides to lock Harry up for the next school year at Privet Drive where he will be safe.With the help of Dumbledore, Harry escapes to Diagon Alley where Ollivander offers him an apprenticeship in wandcraftin
1. Chapter 1  Apprenticeship

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He is owned by J. K. Rowling. **

**AN: **Don't worry, I will still be updated Battle of Hogwarts regularly, but this plot struck my fancy and I had to start writing it! If you like it, please review! I will likely update within a week. Enjoy!

**Harry Potter: Wand-maker**

**Chapter 1: Tristan Artemis**

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_I would like to congratulate you on your sixteenth birthday! Several centuries ago, it was the sixteenth, not the seventeenth, birthday that marked a wizard's coming-of-age. However, that is not my primary reason for writing. There is both good and bad news which I must share with you. The good news is that I have managed to convice Minister Fudge that Voldemort has indeed returned. Sadly, the Minister has decided it is too dangerous for you to return to Hogwarts this year. He is, no doubt, afraid of the political power which you could (and probably would) wield against him. He has managed to convince a majority of the Security Council (the governing body that takes over from the Wizengamot in times of war) that this would be best. Your friends and the public will be informed that you are being trained privately. I am working around the clock to correct this, as I know that the few months you do spend at Privet Drive is far more than you wish to spend there. Unfortunately, the minister remains unconvinced. I beg your pardon for this, it should never have happened. I only hope I will be writing to you with better news. Until then, happy birthday! Enjoy your present._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry looked up from the letter lying on his bed to the red-and-gold bird that had delivered it. "What does the Minister think he's doing, Fawkes?" he asked the bird. Fawkes didn't answer him, but instead disappeared briefly and reappeared with a package. Trilling softly, he held it out to Harry.

"This must be the present Dumbledore mentioned, eh?" Harry asked, Fawkes singing back an affirmative. "Let's see what it is then." He reached out and unwrapped the paper surrounding the box. He looked at it for a moment, before glancing back at Fawkes. "Why is Dumbledore sending me a miniature trunk?" he asked the bird. A pulsing light answered from the trunk, and Harry saw words writing themselves across it. _Say__**expand**__ and tap the trunk twice with your wand. Don't worry, the ministry will not be alerted._

Harry reached over to his bedside table and picked up his wand. "_Expand_," he whispered, tapping the trunk twice. He soon learned that it would have been wiser to take it off his lap, as he now found himself trapped under a large school trunk. Struggling slightly, he slipped out from under it, and opened the top. He was confronted with a set of stairs leading far down into the trunk. _It's like Mad-Eye's_, he though. _Wicked_. "Come on, Fawkes, want to see?" he said, holding out an arm. The phoenix trilled and landed on it. Harry climbed up and into the trunk, closing the top as he got far enough down the stairs.

When he reached the bottom, he found himself in a circular room, with a couch, a table and a firplace. A sheet of parchment lay on the table. Picking it up, Harry read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this has happened. While I have made you return to the Dursley's every summer, even I understand that there is a delicate balance between protecting someone and imprisoning him. The Minister, I fear, fails to understand this. As such, while it is no doubt more dangerous for you to leave Privet Drive, I give you this offer. This trunk has a fireplace in it that is capable of floo travel. It can only be used once – because once it is alarms will go off at the Ministry and all floo-access will be shut off here while they investigate, and when they find you missing it will spark a great search. If you choose to leave, I warn you to choose where you go well. The Burrow has been abandoned, as it is not secure enough for a prime-target family such as the Weasleys. They are at Grimmauld Place, but I would caution you not to floo there either, for I believe the Minister has infiltrated the Order. Sadly, this means you will be unable to write your friends, as owls may be traced. So, as you see, I cannot offer you complete freedom, but I can offer you some. If you choose to take it, you may be interested to know that the Floo address __**Potter Vault**__ will take you directly to your family vault, open to you now that you are sixteen. The goblins are completely discreet, and have no love of the ministry. They will not turn you in. They also your father a few. . . favors. More on that later. You may also be interested to note that I have modified the Floo powder in this room such that you will be permanently disguised until next we meet. This should keep you from being recognized and caught. And, Harry, please be careful. The weight of the world rests on your shoulders – far too heavy a burden for one so young as you. But I think you can carry it, as you have shown remarkable intelligence, bravery, and maturity for one of your age. Far more than many adult wizards. Enjoy your new life, should you choose to take this offer._

_With love,_

_Albus._

Harry read the note through several times before noticing the second sheet of parchment.

_Harry –_

_Should you wish to, you may write me a note back on this parchment. Fawkes will carry it back to me._

_Albus._

Harry picked up the pen he saw lying next to the parchment and quickly wrote a note.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Thank you so much for giving me this chance. I'm going to take it now, because if I don't I'll probably chicken out. If there is anyway to let you know where I am, and how everything goes, I will take it. Otherwise, I look forward to the next time we meet!_

_Sincerely, Harry Potter_

An hour later, a fireplace in an underground chamber sparked for the first time in seventeen years, expelling a boy from it. He stood up, and looked around. The place was brightly lit, Ever-Flaming Torches mounted all over the wall. A tall mirror stood across the room, covered in gold ornaments. He walked in front of it, and examined his reflection. He was tall – looking about twenty or twenty-one, with almost waist-length black hair. Brilliant green eyes gazed from beneath dark eyebrows. _Where are my glasses?_ he thought. _Odd. I never thought to ask if magic could fix my eyesight. _

At a small noise, Harry spun around, drawing his wand. "You may drop your wand, Mr. Potter," said a voice around his waist. Looking down, Harry saw a goblin holding a ledger. "It is good to see you. Mr. Dumbledore told us you'd be arriving today." _I guess he got the letter I sent with Fawkes_. "He wished me to give you these things." First the goblin held out a card. "This is a Gringotts Card. You may use this instead of galleons. Shopkeepers will be able to get the galleons transferred directly from your account. This," the goblin presented him with a small check-book, "keeps track of all transfers. You are advised to keep up-to-date and approve each transfer promptly, or your account might be closed. This," he handed him another book, "is a listing of all the items in your vaults. Mr. Dumbledore particularly advised you to take a look at the Potter Grimoire. You would find it on the bookshelf over there," the goblin pointed to a wall covered in books. "It should be in the lowermost left corner. Mr. Dumbledore instructed us to give you this note, and to request that in return for our aid and silence you will consider our debt to one James Potter concerning the affair of the Aisling Diamond resolved."

"Um. . .certainly," Harry said.

"Excellent. If you require any more assistance, simply use the bell-pull by the fireplace. Otherwise, use the fireplace to floo to either _Gringotts Lobby _or _The Leaky Cauldron_ to leave. Enjoy yourself, Mr. Potter." With that, the goblin disappeared with a crack.

Harry unfolded the note.

_Dear Harry,_

_As sad as it may seem, this is the last note you will receive from me. I wish you luck in all your endeavours, and please do not get yourself too badly injured. You have a fortune – some 300 million galleons (this includes the fortune of the Black family, transferred to you in accordance with Sirius' will), so buy whatever you wish. Live a little, and enjoy your life. Train if you like, that should buy as many books as you might need. Also, take a look at the Potter Grimoire, it will include spells invented by the Potter Family and kept secret throughout time. Oh, and I advise that you select a new name. But I assume you've already thought of that. With that said, I wish you the best of luck._

_With love,_

_Albus._

_P.S. – if you are interested in a job, Mr. Ollivander is advertising for a shop assistant. I don't know about you, but I always found wandmaking a fascination subject. Alas, I fear I have too many interests for the time alloted me. I cannot wait to hear how you use this time, however it is choose to. Now, I really must finish, or I'll keep thinking of advice to give you! Until we next meet – Albus._

Harry folded the note up, grimacing slightly in chagrin. He hadn't thought about a new name, which, now that Dumbledore mentioned it, was fairly obvious._Perhaps one of my ancestor's names?_ He though, walking over the bookshelf. He found the Potter Grimoire right where the goblin had said it would be. Opening it, he saw in the beginning a table of contents.

_To use this Grimoire, tap your wand upon the volume name you wish to read, and the book will fill itself with that volume. The family tree with cause the book to transform into a tapestry, a double wand tap will return it to normal. WARNING: If you are not a Potter, be prepared for a most powerful curse to fall upon you for perusing a Grimoire you do not deserve._

_Family Tree_

_Volume 1 – Tristan Artemis Potter_

_Volume 2 – Adrian Holly Potter_

The list continued for many pages. Harry immediately decided to name himself after the first Potter to use the Grimoire. "Hello world," he said, "I am Tristan Artemis." Closing the Grimoire, he looked around the vault, and saw several rucksacks lying beside the entrance to another room. Crossing over, he glanced into the room, and saw veritable mountains of gold and silver. _I guess this is the money_, he thought. Picking up one of the sacks, he saw that they were much larger on the inside than outside. He tucked the Grimoire into one, and slung it onto his back. Walking to the fireplace, he threw some powder in and proclaimed, "_The Leaky Cauldron_."

Staggering a little, Harry fell out of the fireplace. "Hello, sir. I apologize for the entrance to the fireplace – we had to place the low grate there to keep the ashes from getting out into the room," Harry heard a voice say, as hands caught him as he fell.

"Thank you, sir" he breathed.

"Now, the name's Tom."

"I'm Tristan," Harry said quickly, wanting to introduce himself to someone to get into the habit, before he made a slip.

"Nice to meet you. Now, what can I do for you today?"

Harry was about to politely decline anything, but then remembered Dumbledore's words and the room full of gold. "A cold butterbeer wouldn't be amiss," he said.

"Excellent, taste, sir," Tom said, going behind the bar. "Here you are, and that will be 9 sickles."

Harry handed over the card, and Tom tapped it with his wand. "Off to Diagon Alley, sir?" the barkeeper inquired.

"Yes," Harry said, then remembering about Ollivander's, asked, "I heard that Ollivander was advertising for an assistant?"

"That he is, sir, that he is – and without much luck, either. You might want to hurry over there."

"Will do, thanks Tom," he replied, walking towards the back of the bar. He tapped on the appropriate bricks with his wand. The archway to Diagon Alley formed, and he stepped through. Harry sighed in happiness. He hadn't been here without guards since his third year, and somehow the place seemed much brighter and friendlier. Walking quickly, he past the Magical Menagerie, where he had bought Hedwig (who was currently summering, and perhaps wintering as well, with the Weasleys – Harry sent her there before going to Gringotts), and Florean Fortescue's ice cream shop. Seeing the sign for Ollivander's, Harry broke into a run, slowing to a dignified walk just before entering the store.

"Ah, Mr Potter!" a voice said as he entered. "I hadn't expected to see you today. Wand functioning correctly, I trust?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry said, his heart beating fast. "My name is Tristan Artemis."

"Fool others, perhaps, Mr. Potter – but I know that only Harry Potter would have a bond as strong as you do with _that _wand," a gnarled hand pointed at his prized holly and phoenix-feather wand. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Now, what are you here for?"

Harry shuffled his feet nervously. "I heard you were looking for a shop assistant, and I –"

"Hired, Mr. _Artemis_. When can you start?"

"Mr. Ollivander? Are you sure you want to hire me so quickly?"

"I'm a good judge of character, Artemis. I could tell what you'd turn into when you were a mere first-year buying his first wand. Did I not say that we can expect great things from you? Even then, it was apparent you would turn into a powerful wizard. Now, when can you start?"

"Today," Harry replied. "Now, if you like."

"Very well. Though it appears you heard wrong. I'm not looking for a shop assistant, Mr. Artemis. I'm looking for an apprentice. If you accept, you will begin studying under me tomorrow, learning how to see magic and craft wands with it. Do you accept?"

Harry hesitated a moment, but then asked, "Won't the ministry know when I do magic, though?"

Ollivander chuckled. "They can only tell where magic is being done, not who does it, except in the case of those unfortunate souls who happen to be the only witch or wizard nearby. Here, in Diagon Alley, they won't even register the spell. Now, do you have an answer?"

_Why not_, Harry thought. _It can't hurt to learn, and what else will I do with the next year? Besides, Ollivander has a reputation as a wizard and wand-maker without par. How often can I get this chance?_ "Yes, sir. I'll study with you."

"Excellent. But I think, perhaps, you should have a better cover story, Mr. _Artemis_," he stressed the last name. "I think. . .hmm. . .yes. . .perhaps that will work. . ."

"Sorry?"

"Oh, my apologies. Sometimes I get lost in thought. You will be my long-lost nephew, returned from America. Mr. Tristan Artemis Vander. I have a cousin whose name was changed to that by those idiots at Ellis Island. Welcome, Nephew Vander, to the noble and most ancient art of wand-crafting. Come to the back room, and we will discuss your hours."

Harry followed after the old man. _This will be a year to remember,_ he thought.


	2. Chapter 2 Another Apprenticeship

A/N: Yeah, really late. I know! I'm sorry! Here is the latest installment. Hope you enjoy it very muchly. If you do, please review! Or, if you don't, please review! I should have a new chapter up much sooner than this one was. Exams and thanksgiving and work got in the way.

**Chapter Two**

_Boy-Who-Lived in Training_

_Rita Skeeter, Prophet_

_In a press release yesterday, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge stated that Harry Potter has been sent away for private training, in preparation for the fight against You-Know-Who. Albus Dumbledore was unavailable for comment as to whether he would be returning to Hogwarts. . ._

_Dumbledore –_

_**The boy is gone!**__ Come to the Ministry at once, we must convene a meeting to decide what course of action shall be taken._

_Fudge_

Harry turned away from the workbench, sighing and rubbing his eyes. It was one in the morning, and he still couldn't get the blasted wand right. It had been two months that he'd been studying with Ollivander, and this was the first wand he'd been allowed to make. Until now, he'd only been working on drawing runes, identifying cores, using Oculomency to see the magical bonds between wood, runes, cores, and people. Finally, Ollivander had decided to allow him to design a wand, ostensibly for his use as Tristan Vander.

What he was working on now was carving runes into the wand he had constructed. It was twelve inches long, made of mountain rowan. Crystallized basilisk venom wound with the heartstring of Antipodean Opal-eye formed the core. The selection of the core had been difficult, but Harry thought he had finally found one that connected with his personality (although privately he decided that nothing would work quite as well as the Phoenix Feather.) The runes he had decided on were complex, and he was trying to carve the rune _farthak _(depth, wisdom) close to the tip. For some reason, though, the wand was rejecting the rune when he tried to infuse it with magic.

"Finished yet?" a voice said from over his shoulder.

"Almost," Harry said. "Can't figure out the right place for this rune."

Ollivander leaned over and looked more closely. "Do you remember what I told you about illegal sequences?"

Harry nodded. "Sequences of runes that cancel each other, or the wand's power."

"Look more closely at your use of _ahwaz_," Ollivander stated.

Harry squinted at the wand, and then cursed himself for his idiocy. "I guess I need to switch those two around," he said.

"Try it," Ollivander replied.

Harry reached out for his _athame_ knife, carefully scraping _ahwaz_ out, and re-carving it at the tip. He then carved _farthak_ in where _ahwaz_ had been. As the lines completed, a glow surrounded the wand, after it receded, Harry picked it up. "Should I test it?" he asked Ollivander.

"By all means," the man replied, sounding calm although something about him seemed tense.

Harry lifted the wand into the air, flicked it at the table, which instantly transfigured into a pig. Another flick, and it was a table again. Tapping a box of wands, he said, "_Innimicus_," before tossing it to Ollivander. The man tried to open it several times, with both hands and spell, and was unable to. He tossed it back to Harry, who slid the lid off.

"It appears to work!" he said, too tired to be too excited, but knowing that tomorrow he would be bouncing off the walls. "What now?" he asked, Ollivander having never explained what he'd be doing after making this wand.

"I hadn't yet told you, but with the completion of a working wand, the Apprentice is an Apprentice no more, and becomes a Journeyman Wand-maker. In other words, you are no longer my Apprentice. However, should you wish to remain here, I do have some thoughts for further study."

"I can't possibly have learned wandcrafting in two months!" Harry exclaimed.

"You haven't. You have simply progressed far enough that you can be trusted to make a wand for yourself. Making a wand for someone else, or crafting a wand without a specific owner in mind, is much harder. If you choose to stay, instead of journeying, then I will continue to instruct in further complexities of runes, woods, and cores. You know only the most basic runes – there are thousands upon thousands of them, with many different applications in different sequences. In addition, your Arithmancy is highly undeveloped. You will need more knowledge in that to achieve of a mastery of Wandcrafting."

"Of course I'll stay," Harry said, having found in the past two months a passion for wandcrafting that he had had for nothing else until now. "I want to learn everything."

"That will take some time. In the meantime, I would like you to set aside Fridays and Saturdays for instruction from me. I have procured a part-time job for you for Monday-Thursday. Sunday you will have off, although you could assist me in making wands should you wish."

"A job?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Help at a shop. We'll go there tomorrow, I shall introduce you to the shopkeeper, and you will start work."

"I thought some of this. . .control-freak behavior of yours would end when I achieved Journeyman status," Harry complained.

Ollivander chuckled. "You are a Journeyman Wandcrafter, certainly. But with agreeing to stay, you are now apprenticed to me again. How do you like that?"

"What in?"

"I'll decide that later."

"Can you do that?"

"I'm your master, boy. I can do whatever I want."

"Not fair."

"Life isn't fair."

"I'm going to bed."

"I'll wake you up at six."

"Six?"

"Got to sleep."

The next day Ollivander, true to his word, woke Harry up at six in the morning. An hour later, a dressed, washed, and cleaner-mouthed Harry was walking behind his mentor on the way to this store. They reached the end of Diagon Alley and turned right.

"Um. . .sir?" Harry said.

"Yes?"

"Doesn't this lead to Knockturn Alley?" he asked.

"Yes, it does."

"You mean the store I'm working for is in –"

"Yes, it is in Knockturn Alley. The place isn't as dark as people make it out to be. A little more illegal than Diagon Alley, but if you keep your wand handy and your money hidden you should be all right. Anyway, the store is here." Mr. Ollivander gestured to a shop with the name: _Draconis Apothecary, Potion-making, Weaponry and Enchantments_. He and Harry walked into the store, and were greeted by a man dressed in a black tunic and baggy pants. "Hello Ollivander," he said shortly. "This is the boy?"

"Yes."

"All right. He'll get off at six. Expect him back at nine tonight. Good-bye."

"Good-bye," Ollivander said, waving absent-mindedly at Harry as he strode out of the shop. Harry himself was a little worried about this job. The fellow had seemed very. . .kurt.

"My name is Draconis Ark. You may refer to me as Ark, Mr. Ark, or sir. Let me show you around, and then I'll set you to work."

Harry followed Ark around the shop as he explained the various products and services the store provided. Fairly soon, Harry found himself fascinated by these branches of magic. He'd never been much of a potions ethusiast, but after only a few minutes with the curt, but enthusiastic, man had him converted. He was led through the apothecary section, where Ark pointed out the rarer ingredients, and then they went to the potions laboratory, where Ark prepared pre-made and custom-ordered potions for customers. The next room over held magical weapons of all sorts – some muggle weapons with enchantments, some entirely magical.

Before entering the next room, Ark turned to Harry. "This room contains the most dangerous and powerful objects in the store, and was, I think, why your Uncle apprenticed you to me. Take a look around, but don't touch. Meet me in the front room, and we will discuss your schedule." The man swept away, leaving Harry having only comprehended one word.

"Wait – apprenticed?"

A quick look around the room showed Harry absolutely nothing, for the room was completely empty. After a moment, he decided to use Oculomency to see if there was any magic in the room.

The next he knew he was waking up in a chair. "Huh –" he grunted, shaking his head. "What. . ."

"You know how to see magic?" a man's voice asked him. Craning his neck, Harry saw Ark standing there.

"Yes."

"I did not know that. You were knocked out by over-exposure to magic through your eyes. I apologize. Now, for your schedule –"

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "What did you mean, apprentice?"

"Your uncle approached me last week about an apprentice, and said you were interested. Apparently he did not inform you. It is too late to back out now, though. So. Schedule. You will spend Monday and Wednesday studying Enchantment and Potions with me. Tuesday and Thursday you will learn weaponry and tactics. All days you will help man the shop. Good? Yes? Now, follow me."

Harry groaned. He'd thought he'd escaped insane masters for once in his life, but apparently not. _What is it with wizards and insanity?_ He thought. There must be something in the magic.

A/N: Weak ending, I know. Sorry. Very tired. Review if you like. See you next update.


	3. Chapter 3 Going to Hogwarts

**Chapter 3**

_August of the next year [a/n: august before Harry would start year 7_

Harry walked down Diagon Alley, with a light breeze blowing his cloak behind him. It had been an odd year, to be sure. Since September of last year, he had spent four days a week studying with Draconis, two days a week studying with Ollivander, and one day trying to catch up. It was now part-way through August, and Harry had been released from his apprenticeship by both of his masters. He mused reflectively that he would probably get put in Ravenclaw at this point -- studying so much had opened his eyes to the wonders of knowledge. _Knowledge is power_, he thought.

He'd contacted Dumbledore in July, to state his intention of returning to Hogwarts for his last year, so he could take his NEWTs, and possibly help in the fight against Voldemort. Neither the Death Eaters nor the Order of the Phoenix had taken any drastic steps in the past year, they both seemed to be waiting for something. Harry suspected that something was himself. Voldemort no doubt believed that Harry had disappeared to train, and the Order was content to wait until Harry was there to fight. _Bloody Prophecy, _he thought.

He'd gotten occasional updates from Dumbledore about his friends -- Ron and Hermione. They were both very angry at Dumbledore for not allowing them to contact him, but had gotten together around Christmas of the previous year. _I wonder if they argue more or less_, Harry mused thoughtfully. _Probably more_. He couldn't wait to see them again, although Dumbledore told him he'd have to attend Hogwarts as Tristan Vander, since the Ministry was still looking for Harry Potter, ideally to lock him up. Dumbledore didn't want him to tell his friends, but Harry had decided that if Hermione didn't figure it out within a month, he'd tell them anyway and screw Dumbledore.

He stopped outside the store that had opened the summer before, _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_. Pausing a moment to collect himself, he walked inside.

"And what can I do for you, Mr Vander?" George Weasley asked. Harry had come by the store occasionally, to both purchase products and recommend lines of research. He'd gotten to know the twins fairly well as Vander, something he'd always wanted to do as Harry, but never had.

"Indeed -- what would bring such an illustrious patron to our store?" Fred Weasley asked, appearing to his right.

"It appears I will be attending Hogwarts this coming year -" Harry began.

"And you find yourself in need of our products?" Fred asked.

"Of course he can't! Well, what would you like?" George continued. "We've got here a Weasley Wizard Wheezes Deluxe Prank Box -- "

"Perfect for all standard, and a few odder pranks -- "

"or perhaps you'd prefer the WWW Existential Emergency Ectoplasm? Our latest creation!"

"Do I want to know what that does," Harry asked.

"Probably not," the twins chorused.

A half an hour later Harry walked out of the store, several boxes of joke materials stored in his Ever-Filling bag -- one he had invented under Draconis' tutelage six months back. That was the last stop on his school-supply trip (after all, what collection of school supplies would be complete without materials for practical jokes?) and all that remained was to work at Ollivander's for the next week, before boarding the train to Hogwarts. He hummed the Hogwarts School Song as he walked back to the wand-maker's store. This would be a _fun_ year at Hogwarts!

Two days later Harry had a surprise visit at Ollivander's. Ollivander himself had left for a few days to look for new core materials, figuring that Harry could run the shop on his own. Harry was sitting behind the counter, reading through _Flamel's Advanced Alchemy: A Study in Eternity_ -- the book that chronicled some of the alchemical theories behind the Philosopher's Stone, though nothing that was actually useful in trying to make it (Flamel was afraid that someone like Voldemort would create another Stone.) This was, in fact, the only copy of this particular volume, as it was Flamel's private journal (which Ollivander had been sent by Flamel before his death.) As he turned to the chapter on pentagonal matrices and their effect on metals, the door opened and two people walked in -- two people he knew quite well: Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.

Hiding his shock, Harry stowed the book away and asked them, "How can I help you?"

"Who are you?" Ron asked.

"Don't be rude," Harry heard Hermione hiss at him.

"Well aren't you curious where Ollivander is?" Ron muttered back.

"Yes, but -"

"Excuse me," Harry said, interrupting what he knew would be an endless argument. "I am Mr. Ollivander's nephew, Artemis Vander. He is collect core materials, and left me in charge of the shop for the week before I go to Hogwarts."

"You go to Hogwarts? What house?" Hermione asked him curiously.

"I don't know yet! Just came over here last year from America," Harry answered. "So how can I help you?"

"Ron, here, broke his wand," Hermione replied. "For the second time," she added waspishly.

"It wasn't my fault!" Ron protested. "How could I help it if it fell out of my pocket while I was flying and got chewed up by a gnome?"

Harry repressed a laugh. God, how he had missed them! "Well, let's see what we can find you. Hmmm. . . ." he hummed to himself as he glanced at Ron's core. Surprisingly, it was one of the more powerful ones of the students he had seen. _I wonder why he isn't a better student?_ Harry wondered. "Try this," he said out loud, grabbing a box off a shelf. "Willow and unicorn hair, 12 and 3/7 inches."

An hour later, and they still hadn't found a wand for Ron. "Well, Mr. Weasley, you are indeed a very tricky customer. I'll try a couple more, and if they don't work, I might have to make you a custom wand. Here, Mahogany and Birch, dragon heartstring, 8 inches."

Ron lifted the wand, and was immediately thrown against the wall. "No, no, _definitely _not," Harry muttered. A few more were tried, but no such luck. "All right, Mr Weasley, it looks like I'll have to craft you your own wand. We could keep going, but we've gone through a good four hundred wands so far, and not a single one has liked you a bit."

"Thanks," Ron muttered. "Even _wands_ don't like me."

"Actually, it is quite a compliment," Harry said, as he grabbed a couple of measuring tools. "The more powerful the wizard, the more unique his power, the less likely a lesser wand will work. All right, here we go." Harry walked up to Ron and started measuring all sorts of things -- his power diagram, Arithmantic matrix, birth Runes, and so forth. "Well, there's the problem," he said. "I didn't notice that earlier. . .you will indeed need a custom-made wand. It should only take 2-3 hours to make. Would you be able to come back after three hours?"

"I could," Ron replied, since he was spending the whole day in the Alley with Hermione. "But. . .I mean, not to say. . ."

"What Ronald is _trying_ to say," Hermione said, "is that he wants to know how much it will cost."

"Normally a wand like this would cost you around 35 Galleons, possibly more. But for you I'll knock the price down to what an average off-the-shelf wand would be. I'm only a journeyman wandmaker, after all -- though I should make Master within a couple months."

"Thanks," Ron replied, before he and Hermione left the shop.

_Still as uncomfortable with gifts as always, _Harry thought. _Just as well I didn't tell him the truth, which is that the wand I'm about to make for him would cost him 75 or 80 galleons_.

Three hours later, Ron and Hermione returned to the store, and saw no one there. Ron rang the bell, and a moment later they heard a shouted. "Be there in a moment!"

A minute later, Harry walked out of the back room, carrying a polished rosewood box. Opening it up, he took out a wand, and handed it to Ron, saying, "Rosewood and Rowan, with twined Unicorn Hair and Dragon Heartstring (Welsh Green), 10 3/13 inches long. Try it out." Ron took it from his hands, and a visible glow surrounded him. Flicking the wand, he said, "_Orchideous"_ and a bunch of perfectly formed Orchids appeared out of the wand. He caught them and handed them to Hermione, who blushed, and then said in surprise, "Since when could you do that spell?"

Ron smiled. "I guess this wand really does like me better!"

Harry smiled -- he had hoped it was the lesser-matching wand that had resulted in Ron's mediocre magic over the years, surprising in someone with such a powerful core. "That will be 17 Galleons and 4 Sickles. I'll throw in the Rosewood carrying box for an even twenty galleons," Harry said.

Ron drew out a money-bag and counted out twenty galleons. "Thank you very much," he said.

"Your welcome!"

September 1st rolled around before long, and Harry found himself on the Hogwart's Express. He sat down in an an empty compartment, and gazed out the window deep in thought. His thoughts were interrupted when Ron and Hermione looked in the compartment and asked him if they could come in. "Sure," he said. They were soon followed by Ginny Weasley, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. Harry was introduced to all of them as Tristan Vander, and spent the train ride listening to them talk, and wishing he could have been at Hogwarts with them the year before.

He went to the castle on the boats with the rest of the first years, relishing the experience for the second time. After all the first years had been sorted, Professor Dumbledore stood and announced, "This year we have a seventh year joining us to study for his NEWTS. Please, everyone, welcome Tristan Vander."

Harry walked up to the hat and put it on. _Hello_, he thought.

_Ah! Mr. Potter, _the Hat said. _Well, well, well. I recall wanting to put you in Slytherin last time, and then placing you in Gryffindor._

_Please, not Slytherin_, Harry thought.

_Oh, don't worry. You aren't even a bit Slytherin anymore. But, then, neither are you a Gryffindor. In fact I know just where to put you. Enjoy your time in **RAVENCLAW, **Mr. Vander! "_

Harry stood. He had suspected it, though he'd rather have been in Gryffindor, where he knew people (even if they didn't know him.) Ah well. At least there'd be plenty of books to read, if the stories of the Ravenclaw Library were true.

He walked over to the applauding Ravenclaws, and sat next to a girl who he recalled was named Lisa Turpin.


End file.
